


fine line

by humanveil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-04-21 17:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22097599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: Things are different in the afterlife. Mostly.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Severus Snape
Comments: 5
Kudos: 104
Collections: Daily Deviant





	fine line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [r_grayjoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/r_grayjoy/gifts).

> written for daily deviant’s 2019 kinky kristmas comment kink & originally posted [here](https://daily-deviant.dreamwidth.org/10426.html?thread=60602#cmt60602). enjoy!

The afterlife is a learning curve; almost a mirror image of the real world except for the subtle discrepancies and the fact that Severus knows he and everyone else here is dead. He had never imagined the state of his soul would warrant him entrance, had only ever envisioned an endless stream of black on the odd occasion where he’d thought of it all, but here he is. Here he is: pinned to the wall by Sirius Black, shirt pulled from his trousers and pants pushed to mid-thigh, cock hard and leaking as another body grinds against his own. 

Land of the Holy, indeed. 

“Fuck,” Sirius swears, breathless. It’s said through clenched teeth; tight and punctuated by the jerk of his hips as he rocks desperately against Severus’ side. Severus can feel the drag of a prick against his thigh, the pressure of Sirius’ forehead pressed at his shoulder. He’s trapped where he is, Sirius keeping him in place with one hand on the wall and the other on his waist, the grip guiding the roll of his hips in a way that suits Sirius best. “Need—yo—your—”

It breaks off, a stuttered, surprised little moan escaping as Severus lifts a hand to tangle in Sirius’ hair and pulls. Sirius’ back arches, groan half-caught in his throat and swallowed by Severus’ mouth; the kiss more teeth and tongue than anything close to _tender_. They’re too desperate for that. Minds clouded by arousal as they cling and clutch and claw at each other. 

Severus stills the rock of his hips, uses his free hand to halt Sirius’, too. “’s enjoying that,” Sirius complains, words mumbled against skin, and Severus would snort if he weren’t so focused on _other_ things. 

His fingers curl around both their cocks, precome easing the way as he moves his hand up and down. There’s a half-formed retort on the tip of his tongue, a comment linking Sirius’ erratic humping to that of a dog, but he swallows it. Keeps it to himself. Where whatever trysts they’d managed while alive had been preceded by a heavy dose of insults and anonymity, the afterlife has brought upon a much more mellowed approach. It is, perhaps, one of the better perks. 

“You were saying,” Severus says, as Sirius buries his face back against his neck, breath hot and damp against Severus’ skin. The full effect is lost behind the layer of arousal that clouds his voice, the way his breath hitches, hips stuttering as he grows closer to the edge. Sirius ignores him, anyway, moans muffled as hands slide down to clutch at Severus’ arse, nails leaving little half-moon marks in their wake. Severus swears and doubles his efforts.

“Come on,” Sirius groans, biting at his neck. He repeats it, over and over, a string of obscenities mixed in as he bucks into the pressure of Severus’ hand. Severus feels the heat in his abdomen pool, pressure building, pace fast and frantic as his actions grow erratic. When he comes, it’s with a choked groan, a slight arch, eyes on Sirius as his lover’s body stills and then stutters, ropes of come splattering Severus’ hand and mixing in with his own. 

They’re both panting messes when they pull apart, skin flushed and sweaty, their legs unsteady. Severus leans against the wall and attempts to catch his breath, watches as Sirius tries to do the same. 

“Bloody hell,” he says. Looks at Severus from the corner of his eye. “You couldn’t have died two years ago?” 

Severus does snort, this time. Quiet and airy, his mouth quirked at the side. “Some of us had _actual_ uses,” he says, pointedly; unsurprised when Sirius’ response is an offended, _Oi, _his elbow catching Severus’ ribs.

After all, not _that _much had changed. 


End file.
